Ding dong, the nasty pink-faced vicar has sweated his last drops of sweat, prayed his last prayer and feasted over his last tootsies. For creepy Ozzie, every sister’s worst bedroom nightmare, is dead! How we had all hoped and prayed for his hasty demise. But, instead of rejoicing, what a lot of misery and heartache Rev Whitworth’s murder caused. Seriously? No one wanted to throw a party? Yes, we had a little crumb of comfort from Lord Falmouth at the end, but otherwise … ’Twas pitiful sad, this episode.

Poor Drake. And poor Hobblin’ Rozina. Isn’t it always the way? You get closure on one thing in your life and decide to move on and marry someone else and then everything suddenly changes. But at least the wicked, creepy, foot-fetishist vicar, not to mention the pig’s tail mole on his left buttock, is finally where he belongs: six feet under. I know Morwenna is worried about her son and traumatised by the sweaty ministrations. But could she have had one moment of joy or revenge? (Note: I struggled to believe that in the early 19th century she would mention the “violations”, especially in front of Evil George.)

Ah, if only we could celebrate the vicar’s death, a dramatic Cluedo-style development at the hands of the mild-mannered ginger librarian in the forest with the candlestick. I very much enjoyed the sudden resurgence of the librarian and felt extremely relieved that he managed to finish the vicar off so comprehensively because that highwayman costume was so rubbish that the librarian would have almost certainly been hanged had the vicar lived to tell the tale.

Elsewhere, Sindy Doll’s embrace of London society seems appropriately halfhearted, even though her hair seems to have expanded almost as much as her hat collection as if to compensate. Although maybe I’m in denial and she is secretly enjoying hanging out with Sinister Frilly Blouse Man (of whom more soon, we sense). Ross, on the other hand, is distinctly fervent about his new life and his newfound understanding of economics. Never has a man been so passionate about a means-tested, sliding scale of supplements.

I have to take my tricorn off to screenwriter Debbie Horsfield, who always keeps things rattling along and just about manages to keep us up to speed with the cast of thousands. Blink and you miss a plot development. But halfway through this series and things are getting distinctly darker as the feud between Ross and Evil George looks set to explode again. Meanwhile, I don’t know if my blood pressure can cope with the prospect of Dr Enys and Demelza falling in love while Sindy Doll and Ross get together, a prospect which was hinted at more than once here.

Other highlights this week? Prudie appearing out of nowhere with a large implement to slug the interloper in the face. Geoffrey Charles stumbling on for a two-minute cameo that must have involved someone on the Poldark crew having to make some fake vomit. And the facial expression Ross had to adopt shortly after, which roughly equated to, “Hang on, this vomit-mopping-up moment has just given me a brilliant economic idea!” Clearly Aidan Turner was present and correct on the day this expression was taught at Dublin’s Gaiety School of Acting.

Pewter tankard award for bonkers brilliance as supporting actor

We raise a glass of vicarage sherry aloft to the talents of the actor depicting the hideous Rev Osborne Whitworth, played with wit, style, verve and a brilliant awareness of true evil by Christian Brassington. Channelling the spirit of former Whitworth actor Christopher Biggins (for it is he, ’Darkers), Brassington nobly ate 3,500 calories a day to get into shape for the role. “There was a morning when I had a six-egg omelette with a packet of spinach and a packet of mozzarella, and with that a protein shake with powdered oats in it.” Bravo, that man! For his last hurrah, he really excelled himself in creepy greasiness. “Extraordinary that you find not the smallest pleasure in our congress. Quite baffling.” The vicar has now enjoyed his last act of congress. Although not before unintentionally unleashing his last act of revenge, by bequeathing Morwenna a nursemaid who looked like something out of an episode of Doctor Who. Perversely, the vicar and his pig’s tail buttock of shame shall be missed.

Classic Poldark lines

“The man was a monster. And we forced him to wed her. Do not pursue Drake Carne.” Finally Elizabeth does something right.

“Pray for forgiveness.” Oh, Sam, sometimes you’re as bad as the evil vicar.

“Horsewhip this person. Then remove him from the premises.” Drake may be depressed, but he can go like the clappers once a horsewhipping is threatened.

“You know very well he would embrace you, demons and all.” Well said, Ross. Sindy Doll, do not lose your faith in the good doctor! Go home to your rose-bedecked Cornish garden of love and grieve together!

“My son was an excellent horseman!” Looking at the size of him and knowing about the distraction the pig’s tail must have caused on his buttock, I struggle to believe this, Mother-of-the-Vicar.

Regulation reverse sexism bare chest moment

No chests this week because you’re not allowed to take your clothes off in the Houses of Parliament (or wherever it is that Ross is seen giving his shouty speeches). There was a final glimpse of naked foot in a last tribute to the proclivities of the sweaty vicar. Rowella, how we shall miss the turn of your shapely ankle! But at least ye shall have to suffer his attentions no more.

Next week

Looks as if Ross is back in Cornwall for a bit and the feud between him and Evil George is heating up fast. Meanwhile, someone drowns and Morwenna becomes even more disturbed. Smelling salts all round.